Must be Good to be Evil
by Keys Studio
Summary: Pip has died thanks to the Mecha-Streisand goes - well, he wasn't a Mormon! Hell! When he is allowed to stay at Damien's home and grows up with the Anti-Christ, will the two grow a relationship with one another? Or will Pip just get burned a lot? Dip! The first chapter is kind of rushed towards the end, but the second onward are better! Violence, cursing, yaoi, and slight blood!


**I do not own South Park! Matt-sama and Trey-sama do!**

**[xXx]**

The crowd dispersed from around a single boy, a certain blond, British, nine year old boy. He walked up to the havoc-wreaking robot, rather known to be dubbed the Mecha-Streisand. He was smiling, though his thin brows were arched upwards in worry. "Cheeri-o!" he called out in greeting, catching the large robot's attention. "My name is Pip. I would like to see if you wouldn't mind _not_ smashing our little town to bits." He waited for but a small moment for the robot's response, his light blue eyes widening when he saw it moving towards him. He turned and ran, screaming in fear.

That was all he could remember before darkness swallowed him up, holding him tightly in its grasp, drowning him, suffocating him. He had felt a brief moment of immense pain before his body felt numb; he had felt crushed and trapped before he had felt as light as a feather, floating. After what felt like an eternity, he no longer felt light and numb.

He felt...

Well, normal and hot as _Hell_.

Pip's eyes opened as his senses flooded back into him; heat grazed his skin in all directions, ash and soot tasted on his tongue when he inhaled through his mouth, dull and metallic and pretty gross, cries and screams and moans assaulted his ears and causing them to have a constant ringing sound, the smell of rot, sulfur, and burning flesh rushed up his nostrils, and all around him were people who were looking to and fro, not knowing where they were. But Phillip 'Pip' Pirrup had a faint idea as to where they were and it terrified him, shivers running up and down his spine in fear.

_Hell_.

"Hello, newcomers, and welcome. Can everyone hear me?" The voice attracted everyone's attention to a man in a polo and khakis, standing on a wooden platform stage with a microphone in his hand. His next set of words confirmed Pip's fears."Good. Uh, I am the Hell Director. Uh, it looks like we have about..." He frowned at the numbers. "Well, since Heaven just recently started to accept people besides the Mormons, the numbers have dropped. Well, damn. Well, anyways, uh, it looks like we have about three thousand two hundred eleven of you newbies, today, and for those of you who are a little confused, uh, you _are_ dead, and this is Hell, so, abandon all hope and... stuff." He straightened his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Uh, we are now going to start the orientation process, which will last about... hmm... give or take thirty minutes if you all will form sixty lines at the desks behind me." He gestured behind him, showing that there were indeed desks there where Demons in suits and fancy glasses sat behind bullet proof windows. "Thank you and, uh, have a nice day! Oh! And kids first, please!"

Everyone seemed to groan at that.

It seemed that there wasn't a very long list of kids who died that day, much to Pip's relief. Just seventy or so children, including one very familiar, very unmistakable orange parka wearing child.

"Kenny?" Pip questioned as he came up behind the kid. The child turned and was indeed Kenny McCormick.

"Pip?" he asked, though it was muffled through the hood and it took the Brit a moment to translate.

"What happened to you?" the foreign boy asked, shocked to see one of his classmates there in Hell with him.

"I got hit with my Dad's truck," snorted Kenny through his hood. "On the way home after we stopped the Mecha-Streisand."

"Ah, you fellows managed to defeat her?" Pip smiled warmly. He was happy for that thought.

"Yep," grinned the other male. He then frowned. "This is your first time coming here to Hell, isn't it?"

"Well, of course," Pip told him with a bit of confusion laced in with his voice. "Isn't this your first time?"

"Honestly? I've lost count of how many times I've come here."

Before the conversation could ensue, the Demon cleared his throat, wishing for Kenny to hurry up and complete his registration. "Name please."

"Kenny McCormick, file #89775767439040943095723," the redneck recited by heart. "Hit by a truck this time."

"Agh, you again," grumbled the Demon. He made a note and sighed. "Alright, next."

"I'm right here for you," Kenny assured Pip who nervously stood up to the window.

"Name please," the Demon grunted.

"Phillip Pirrup. Everyone calls me Pip though..." Pip replied.

"Age of death?"

"Nine years old, sir."

"Origin of birth?"

From there, Pip had to answer numerous, short answer questions, finally having to cut his finger open to seal his file in blood.

"Next," the Demon said, shooing away the two boys.

"That was most nerve wracking, I must say," Pip admitted once they were far away enough.

"It always is," nodded Kenny in understanding. He took the Brit's hand into his own gloved one. "You remember Damien, right?"

The burn scars on Pip's body seemed to burn at the mere mention of the name. Of course, though, Pip being the ever-so polite young lad that he was raised to be, responded with, "Of course I do. What of him?"

"Well, we can see if you can let you crash at his place," Kenny seemed to smile. "I mean, you two were friends, right?"

"Yes, I do believe that is correct..."

"Great! There should be no problem then."

[xXx]

"No."

"Aw, come on Damien!"

"I said no."

"He just needs a place to crash."

"Kenny. When I say no, I mean it. No!"

"I'm sorry about my son," Satan told a disappointed Pip, handing him a Coke. Pip took it but didn't open it, more of a tea person than a soft drink person. "He just isn't used to the idea of having someone else his age around, you know?"

"Yes, I do believe I understand..." Pip replied softly. He then gave off a smile. "But not to worry. I'm sure I can find a place to live..."

"No, no, stay here," smiled the Demon Lord of Hell. "Damien doesn't run the house as much as he thinks he does."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course!" Satan slapped him on the back with a smile. "It might be good for Damien to have a playmate around!"

"NO, DAD!"

Satan saw his infuriated son standing in the doorway. Kenny was giving Satan two thumbs up from behind the angered Anti-Christ. However, the said Anti-Christ was aflame, quite literally. His eyes were burning as well. "I don't want him here!"

"Well, I told him he can stay and that's final, Damien," Satan told him sternly.

"But Dad-!"

"No buts! Or do you want me to throw you into the River Styx again?"

Damien seemed to fall quiet at that. He calmed and huffed, looking away with his arms crossed across his chest. "Fine," he growled. "But just because he is living here doesn't mean that I have to like it."

Pip seemed to grin at that. "Thank you, Damien! Satan! You too, Kenny, old chap!"

**[xXx]**

**The ending was a bit rushed, but it was meant to be (cause I wanted to go ahead and get on with iiiiit XD).**

**Read and review please~.**

**~Crowsmary**


End file.
